


‘A little wicked’, that’s what he calls me, ‘cause that’s what I am

by RedNightDeer



Series: Ra'sbat week 2019 (Ra'stim) [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Bottom Tim Drake, Don't copy to another site, Evil Tim Drake, M/M, Power Play, Tim's major, Top Ra's al Ghul, age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 06:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20773760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedNightDeer/pseuds/RedNightDeer
Summary: The strangeness of his situation was that Tim had arranged his own arranged marriage himself.





	‘A little wicked’, that’s what he calls me, ‘cause that’s what I am

_ Dies.  _

_ Is reborn from his ashes.  _

_ Rises stronger and wiser than ever. _

Tim never thought he would be married off. He always believed he would manage to marry a decent person he appreciated a lot. He wasn’t stupid; he never believed he could fall in love foolishly. Some people did and Tim pitied them. 

His parents tolerated each other, but there was solid mutual respect between them and Tim never really wished to have a different marriage than his parents. No excessive love demonstrations or anything. Just something simple, but surely  _ warmer _ than what his parents shared. 

He looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw how  _ beautiful _ he was. The dark green silk of the dress was covering his body in a way to flatten his curves, and the golden belt made his waist look thinner. The skirt’s train of long black lace was seven feet long and crept on the floor at Tim’s every step. The gold buttons on his back were like a second spine and the gold embroidery on his chest represented two Phoenixes facing each other. 

The gold jewels on his head, arms, hands, neck, ankles and feet were heavy with all the gemstones encrusted in them but Tim didn’t mind them. It was better. They would keep his mind on Earth, like anchors. 

The strangeness of his situation was that Tim had arranged his own arranged marriage himself. 

When he had learned Batman’s identity, he was thirteen. When he learned Ra’s, he was fourteen, and since that day, he planned this. 

Tim couldn’t stop thinking that Bruce was a fool. He’d had in his hands one of the biggest possibilities of the world and hadn’t taken it. 

Tim respected his mentor, well,  _ ex _ -mentor, but the lingering feelings of anger for his stupidity, and relief that now, he was the one taking that chance were very contradictory. 

Bruce had lived a foolish life and had loved Talia, the Right Hand of the Demon. He had gone for the  _ hand _ , but Tim wasn’t in a pathetic love. 

He was going for the  _ head _ . 

He looked at himself again, turned on his heels to complete a 360 degree circle and was amazed at how graciously the dress was following him, swirling, like the silk and velour weighed nothing. 

It looked really conservative since only the head and hands’ skin was shown, but the fact it was also close-fitting made it very  _ sexy _ . 

His make-up was on point. Ra’s had accepted his request when he had asked for something discreet. The kohl on his eyelids were blending with the roots of his eyelashes, making them look denser than usual. The maidens had added a thin layer of pink blush on his cheeks, and the only thing being not discreet, but it wasn’t a problem for him because he actually quite loved it, was the dark red lipstick on his lips, contrasting with the colour of his attire. 

It was sexy.

And Tim had to be sexy. 

He needed to make Ra’s fall in love with him. Their marriage, well, it wasn’t really one. 

He remembered the day he had asked an appointment with the man, or more like spoke his inquiry to the night, on top of a Gotham rooftop, knowing very well a ninja was going to hear him. 

He had understood that he hadn’t been wrong when, one week later, he had drank his coffee and fell on the floor of his apartment, unconscious. 

He had woken up in Ra’s library -in a few hours,  _ his _ . The man was reading a paper, and hadn’t looked at him when Tim had gotten up and walked towards him. 

“Ra’s,” he had said, with a sleepy voice, still under the influence of the drug. 

The Demon had looked up this time, a little smile on his lips. He was wearing a red suit with black embroideries and if you looked closer, could see little characters living epic adventures. Ra’s had literally clothed himself with the Odyssey. 

“Yes, Detective?” he had asked. 

Tim had forgotten, on the spot, the long speech he had prepared in his mind. 

He hadn’t answered him and Ra’s had waited patiently for a few minutes, then he had stood up and advanced to Tim. “Timothy?

— Let’s get married.”

He hadn’t planned saying it like that. He had an introduction to introduce the subject subtly via comparisons of them with the most well-known kings and queens, he had an argumentation in four parts, about how their partnership via marriage would impact positively the world’s economy, society, politics and geography. He had planned a conclusion to sum up all he would have said to emphasise it and maybe add a little very subtle argument, if he had seen Ra’s not keen about the idea, about how their sex life would be great. 

All he had said was three words. 

And Ra’s had answered with only one: “Strip.”

Tim turned a second time on his heels and contemplated the dress. He loved it. He loved everything. 

He thought about what he would do during the wedding night. Be submissive and moan even more than a porn actress or try to be a little dominant and ride him? He really didn’t know the answer. 

If his mother had been here, she would have given him the answer with a belittling smile. However, Tim knew it, if Janet Drake would  _ really _ have been here, she would be proud of him and giving him lots of advice. Father would be proud too, patting from time to time his back, telling him to listen to his mother because she knew what she was saying.

Mother would have surely, in a moment where Jake Drake’s ears couldn’t hear them, tell him how to seduce Ra’s, because the way to a man’s heart is through his cock and stomach. Everyone knows it, or at least, Janet did. 

Tim went to the large olive wood dressing table standing next to his bed and opened a box put there for him. The diadem’s gemstones were shining with the light coming from the stained-glass windows. They were mostly emeralds but there were some rubies and black tourmalines too. 

Tim took it and turned back in a theatrical way, as if he was playing in a historic TV drama. He went back to his spot in front of the mirror, raised his hands and put the diadem on his head, as if he was crowning himself, as if this wedding was his  _ coronation _ . 

His mother would be so proud. 

It was a shame Tim couldn’t say the same thing for his adoptive family. 

Alfred would surely be disappointed but wouldn’t try to convince him to come back to the ‘right path’. Bruce was going to be furious, he knew it. Dick sad, and he would surely try to bring him back to the ‘right path’, unlike the butler. 

Tim didn’t know what would Jason feel or do, and he didn’t care about it. However, he knew what Damian would be.

Damian would snicker, boast to everyone how he had umpteen times told them how Tim was untrustworthy. Then, once he would be in his bedroom, or maybe in the cave, but certainly alone, the little Demon would lament his fate. Tim was now -well, was going to be- in a  _ higher _ position than him in the League. 

Two taps at the doors pulled him out of his thoughts. 

“Come in,” he ordered. Two maids entered the room and without any words, they pinned a gauze cape to his shoulders. It was longer than the tail, surely three feet more, and the same green of his dress. A figure of Phoenix, that matched the ones on his chest, was embroidered on it. 

The servants checked some parts of the attire to be sure it was perfect before Tim stepped out of the suite attributed to him. 

Shame that Ra’s had given Tim his own quarters. The boy would have preferred staying in Ra’s’. How was he going to seduce him if they weren’t going to sleep in the same bed? Tim had to find a solution to this problem. He wasn’t even sure if they were going to consummate their marriage in the evening. The Demon had said nothing about it. However, Tim still had hope that Ra’s was finding him to his taste, or why would he had asked him to strip in his library?

When the word had left the man’s lips, Tim hadn’t even blink. 

He had immediately started unbuttoning his shirt, and hadn’t hesitated one second before taking off his boxers. 

Ra’s wanted that. He wanted to see if Tim was serious and determinate, if for one second, he would rethink his decision. 

It wasn’t the case. 

The Demon had turned around him twice, not even looking directly at his body. 

Nothing had happened.

Tim wished something would have happened. Maybe one of his long fingers would have traced the curve of the small of his back, or his chest, stopping on a nipple. 

Ra’s had done none of these. He just had casually sat back to his place and had continued reading his paper. Tim had waited -he really had!- for a word or anything from him, but Ra’s was still reading his paper, without deigning to giving an ounce of attention to the boy. 

Tim had wanted to burn that paper and tear it into one thousand pieces. He had advanced slowly toward the old olive wood desk and had rounded it, fingers trailing on it sensually. He had taken Ra’s face into his hands and turned it towards himself.

“Let’s get married.” 

He had thrown a leg on the other side of the man’s lap and had sat on it, making sure that he had  _ accidentally _ touched his groin. 

“The time has arrived,” announced one of the women. 

“Master is waiting for you,” added the other one. 

_ Master _ . He was going to be their  _ master’s _ too. He liked the word. 

Without any sound, he turned to the already open doors and started walking, the two maids on his heels, ten feet behind him. 


End file.
